Dogs really are man’s best friend.
And when we lose them, that’s when it hits us hardest. It’s a loss of ground-breaking magnitude. You remember all the tail wagging and barking and belly rubs and hanging tongues and car rides treats and messes and hugs and kisses and it’s painful to realize that they just didn’t last long enough.
I love you, Caesar. And I miss you.
We got him when I was in the fourth grade; he became one of my constant companions. Caesar was my best good boy for over half of my life, always there to jump, sit in first position, and lounge in all the blankets with me.
Even when I left for college, he was always happy to see me return. When I started smelling more like Chad’s cat, came home later at night, or drank margaritas in the kitchen, he judged a little, but never enough to stop being BooBoo’s Boy.
Caesar, with his assortment of nicknames—Murray, Lion, Scissors, Caesar Salad, Buddy, C’s—was many things. A traveler, as he clocked in many miles in the car, to Iowa, across Colorado, to New Mexico and back; independent; quick; sly; inventive; a risk taker—seen through his leaps and sneaky pursuits into the trash can and jaunts through the snow as he ran away and his fashion choices, which often included leopard print, then later diapers.
I’m thankful for my many years with my pup. He will always be my boy, my first yorkie (though he never looked the part), and the best buddy when I needed it most.
Rest in Peace, Caesar
11/13/04 – 2/26/19